


only ones who know

by macaroonie



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, literally porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:31:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2751245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macaroonie/pseuds/macaroonie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She invites him into her room, inevitably.<br/>He doesn't know what to do in front of a beautiful woman, never has. And so she tells him. They both like it rather more than they expect.</p><p>ha it's porn</p>
            </blockquote>





	only ones who know

“I don't know what I'm doing,” he says. His face clears, as if he's confessed something shameful and now can only wait for the consequences.

“Don't worry,” says Peggy softly.  
Then less so, as he stands awkwardly in her room, “Come over here, then.”  
His face is worried again, a furrow between his brows. As she smooths a hand down his uniform she sees him reach out and then abortively hold himself back. Silly boy.  
“You still want this,” after minute of this nothing, wasting time.  
He doesn't let her finish, even. “-Yes. Just – just tell me what you want.”

Maybe he has said more than he knows. She steps back, assessing, and her eyes track his open face. She likes to be in control of a situation. Uninstructed, Steve will fret and fumble. His natural sharp mouth has disappeared in front of her, which is flattering but not very helpful. There are reasons against it, of course, but the thought is unexpectedly appealing.

Okay then. “Undress yourself, Steve.”  
He swallows and ducks his head, hands going automatically to the buttons on his jacket. “Yes ma'am,” he murmurs quietly, sincerely, without the indignation of another lover.  
Gold skin is revealed, first in small seams under the waistline of his shirt and then in one smooth swathe as he pushes it off his shoulders, taking it off completely. He is perfect, which she knew already, but it is another thing to see him shining in her dark little room. He seems more comfortable shirtless and watches her watch him breathing, the perfect posture of a severe asthmatic.

“You're very beautiful, Steve,” she says thoughtfully. Already the clumsiness between them has dissolved and she feels within her that it is a good idea, them here together. She places a hand on his arm, runs it over his wrists, marvels at his blush and following eyes. Why haven't they done this sooner? The room is very quiet and very small.  
“Thank you – but – I don't like it very much. I'm not sure what to do with it.” He laughs to hide his discomfort and it is the truth.  
She's aware of this being a larger issue than he makes it out to be and of his attention going elsewhere, to a place other than the two of them, so she says “Hey,” sharply and then, “I will show you what to do with that body.”  
He breathes in sharply through his nose so she continues, “You are going to use that pretty mouth of yours to make me come and then – and only then – will I let you touch yourself. Is that ok?”  
It ends uncertainly. Is this ok, Steve. Do you want this? Can I make you feel better?  
He nods vigorously and mumbles “Yes ma'am. I want to be useful. To make you feel good.”  
Power; she feels it swell up within her, and fade to remain in her fingertips, her suddenly aching breasts. She can help him. Be useful, do good for a good man. Sex with Captain America counts as a patriotic deed, she's sure.

“Pick me up and lay me on the bed.” His hands suddenly burning through the material of her skirt and there is wonder writ on his face.  
“Roll up my skirt and – and eat me out.”  
It sounds filthier than she expected and they both shudder but his hands are there, there and she is God, what she says becomes real.  
“I've done this before, a coupla times. Is there anyway you'd like it or shall I just...?”  
The first thing Steve has ventured since they started and it's to ask her whether she likes her cunnilingus hard or soft. She takes a deep breath and tries not to grind against his palm on top of her underwear. It feels too much already.  
“Slow to start with, please, and then fast. I'll tell you when.”  
He nods again reverently and she sees the waver in his long fingered hands as he reaches for her and replaces them with his lips. A kiss against the silk. Then tongue. He makes out with her underwear, strong hands on her hips and she squirms from even this. They both moan when he pulls the soaked cloth down (after her hurried nod) and kisses her again, almost chaste.  
He clears his throat and says “Peggy, you're very beautiful. Probably the most beautiful woman I have ever met.”  
It's like a truce almost, that they have both said this and it hangs in the air. It must be true, because you cannot lie here, between them. They are both beautiful. Glowing with pleasure, she says “Thank you, Steve.” and he draws a broad tongue over her and then deeper, humming like a man happy with his work.  
It's very good. Her pleasure is a growing entity, separate of her, overwhelming her. She is lifted.  
“Steve,” she says when she cannot stop herself thrusting up, and she hopes her can hear her falling apart.

At one point she puts her hands into his hair and he groans surprisingly loud so she pulls and sees his hips jerk, digs her perfect fingernails into his shoulders.

She would have expected none of this. She knows him only a little – apart from him being wholly good, which she supposes could be considered the most important – but the suggestion, the invitation she gave him a week ago, was a whim. Based on mixed curiosity and desire. Which she now fully appreciates to be mutual. There are a thousand rumours about a beautiful woman in the army, but none of them have been true for her yet. She thinks it fits – and also that her mother would laugh, and laugh. Sleeping with the embodiment of America!  
She knows she must look a sight, not even undressed but moving and moaning against the sheets while Steve Rogers drinks her like he's dying of thirst. She likes the image. A beautiful man over a beautiful woman and both of them in thrall of the other.  
His lips moving against hers, her body humming with it, she thinks I want more and hesitates before remembering with startled pleasure that she can ask, that he wants her to.

It comes out rougher than she imagined – no pretence of a suggestion, only command. “Steve. Harder.”  
As he looks up at her, eyes shining, she sees those lips red and wet from her and his face of bliss.

He does “harder” with alacrity and enthusiasm. She feels his tongue in her and out again and again and she realises she's moaning, small dirty noises. Peggy rolls her hips up experimentally and he follows.  
She could take him anywhere and he would say thank you.

The pleasure rolls up and writhes in her stomach and one overheated and calloused finger on her clit brings her to her peak. She sees white.

She feels Steve pull off with a final kiss down there, hears him sit back on his haunches, his steady and deep breaths.

She makes him wait, luxuriating in the feeling of her orgasm and her tension- and bone-less limbs.

His eyes are soft and lovely when she lets them meet hers. He wants her still. Peggy reads his flush and his open mouth and gestures lazily towards herself, whispers “I'm going to kiss you now,” and does, chasing her taste off his eager mouth. His hips stutter against her, held back. Waiting for permission.

“I did good, right?” he whispers when they pull back from eachother.  
Peggy feels astonished that it could come under question.  
“Of course. You're excellent.” She says it brisk and matter of fact, to keep it from being a worthless lover's sweet nothings.  
She tangles fingers into his hair and pulls, then harder when his mouth falls open and the air whooshes out of him. “Now I'm going to make you come.”

Everything is bright now and his face when she kisses him is rapturous. A hand again on his chest but this time with purpose, fingers splayed on the overheated skin. Somehow she is on top of him on the narrow bed.  
She laughs. The situation is ridiculous.

He shifts when he does and she feels him beneath her .  
He wants her, but he will wait. Peggy sees it in his pink bitten lips and his tightly closed eyes. The knowledge of this makes her heady, but she knows despite his need that there is no urgency. This is hers. He is hers.

Like she's wanted to do for a long time now, she reaches out and kisses his heaving chest.

Peggy is astonished at her own sensuality and the picture of the two of them moving together like eels, too tightly tangled to ever separate.  
She could go again, she realises, watching him writhe (he is surprisingly sensitive and his skin shivers under her touch, even as she does nothing more than stroke and tease).  
Being selfish is one thing, but this is simply cruel, albeit gorgeous to watch. One hand on his impossible hips, stiff trousers pulling down, firm fingertips holding his waist while she licks her lips and then – he stills.

“Is this ok?”

A suddenly awkward pause. Still embarrassed after making her white out come.

“I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do, ma'am, not that you would of course but, I know there's an obligation you might feel,”

She lets him finish and works up a wolfish smile. Looks him straight in the eyes.

“However did you get the impression that I would every do anything I didn't wholly want to do?”

Mainly truth. She's done nasty things and a lifetime of chores, but Steve – strong, beautiful and somehow still good Steve – is certainly not one of them.

She licks him, and because he tastes good she does it again and then again when he sighs and relaxes. He's very close.

“Could you come for me, Steve? Not now, but when I say?”

Peggy feels invincible speaking from the lap of a superhero. She wants him. She wants him to remember her when they next meet in the corridor and to try and speak like this never happened. She wants him to know he is absolutely worth her time and everyone else's, that this was not luck, that he is truly the only man for the job in the world (before and after serum!).

“Yes,” he says breathily. His hips twitch to the rhythms of her voice, she notices, so she speaks slowly and musically, enunciating her words like they taught her in boarding school.

“Now, I'm going to suck you off but until I say so, you will not come. Is that clear?”  
Another half word. “Yes.”

She likes him on the sheets like this almost better than she liked his plush mouth on her.  
Steve, indisputably a man, getting sweet talked and bossed around by Peggy. Like a girl or what people expect a girl to be. Modest, blushing, passive. Glowing with the attention. His body is beautiful but even before the change he had this light and this, something else, brittle?   
Peggy is inexplicably proud and protective of him for being the fragile man that he is.

She takes his cock into her mouth without warning and he swears.  
“Good boy,” she thinks fondly.

Later, when he has come silently and athletically at her command, she kisses him slow and says, “Steve. You did really good tonight.” In her head she adds, and you will do a good job in everything you choose to do.

He lifts her up against the wall momentarily and whispers “Thank you, ma'am,” and leaves before anyone catches them.  
He looks a little dazed and radiant still. Anyone could tell he just had sex, the mystery is only with who.

Peggy sits back on her bed and laughs, with bemusement and genuine pleasure. She doesn't remember falling asleep.

 

                                                                                              ---------------------------------

 

Next time turns out to be in the corridor, passing to the mess. He's in a hurry, but opens the door for her on automatic, that blinding smile.  
She loves the brilliant blush that rises over him when he sees her properly and stops.  
Peggy can't think of what to say to his face, despite the witty lines she had thought of since then, until he makes to leave and she realises his embarrassment.  
This is more fragile than that. The responsibility comes over again, and she says firmly “Hold still, Steve. I'm going to kiss you now.”  
She tastes his relief and feels it as he melts into her, that he knows it was not a mistake.

She marches to lunch without another word, him a few seconds behind.

As long as he knows.

**Author's Note:**

> hey if ur interested in a sequel to this amateur porn fest check out the Shortly Upcoming next in the series!! excited to write more Bad Ass Laydeez gettin' eaten out ya know


End file.
